


In the silence of the night - Gallavich

by ChandlerBlue



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Husbands, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Post-Episode: s11e06 Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good....Eh Screw It, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29587872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChandlerBlue/pseuds/ChandlerBlue
Summary: Mickey's overwhelmed. He's feeling the consequences of everything that's been happening lately, from his father and his shooting to the Gallaghers and their newest feud. Good thing there's his husband who has a way of making him scream all of his problems out into the night, even when it's completely silent.And good thing the Gay Jesus groupies they ran into didn't make it too gay.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 9
Kudos: 189





	In the silence of the night - Gallavich

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH!! Been tired of not having Gallavich content, so I wrote some! This is my first Gallavich fan-fic. Hope you enjoy it!

Mickey Milkovich was fucking tired.

If you took into consideration all of the shitty -- albeit also non-shitty -- things that have happened lately, like his dead-beat, homophobic father's shooting, the bike-stealing escapade, and not to mention the new Gallagher feud concerning the house, all combined with the endless hours of cash-pickups and deliveries he had been doing with his husband, it was safe to say the feeling was excused.

Pushing through the front door of the Gallagher house, it took everything in him not to tear the fucking G.I. Joe, shit of a uniform, off of his damp, sweat-covered body. Every single tiny thing had been pissing him off these days, and he couldn't tell you why if you paid him to.

He was usually good at ignoring shit and pretending like something wasn't bothering him just to keep the peace -- and truth be told, it wasn't like he was constantly being annoyed by anyone or anything. His life at the Gallagher home was pretty great. And yet, these days, it was getting harder and harder to even have a simple conversation without Mickey having a random outburst that would always come seemingly out of nowhere. He tried to control it, but it was pretty fucking hard when everybody always had something to say and nag about, and when every fucking thing was getting on his nerves.

He didn't bother to greet Carl and Liam who were sitting on the couch, watching a movie while waiting for dinner -- he just climbed up the stairs, tearing the layers of clothing of off him as he did, nearly tripping over his feet, making him leave a string of colorful curses behind him.

Mickey tried not to think about what Ian's whole thought on the situation was -- he knew the rest of the Gallaghers were just avoiding him and not giving a shit, altogether -- but his husband was a different story. It wasn't like he was just going to ignore Mickey's out-of-character behavior. He pushed the thought of Ian's scowling, 'let's talk about it' face out of his mind and grabbed a pair of boxers -- which he had no idea if they were Ian's or his -- and immediately entered the bathroom, pushing past Ian to do so.

It was calming. The heat of the water was relaxing his tense muscles and he once again regained control of his temper. Taking a deep breath, he tried to push all thoughts of Terry and the Gallaghers to the back of his brain. He settled on imagining Ian.

Ian's beautiful pale, freckled face and his amazingly gorgeous green eyes. Mickey thought about his body and the way it filled during quarantine, which was something he highly encouraged. He imagined Ian's care-free smile and suddenly, all the tension was gone. He exited the shower, drying himself off before putting on a pair of boxers. His chest tightened at the thought of Ian trying to ask him what the hell was wrong as soon as he entered their room. It made Mickey hesitate before leaving the bathroom.

Imagine his surprise when that wasn't the case. 

Ian was sitting on the bed, freshened up from their long day at work, dressed in clean clothes, obviously not for staying at home and sleeping the mess away, a small smile playing on his face. 

"What's up with you?" Mickey asked as he started looking for something comfortable to wear. "You going somewhere?"

"I was hoping we were actually?" The question was formed as a question, and also somewhat as a plea. Mickey's chest warmed out of nowhere but he shook his head nevertheless. 

"Nah. Fucking tired, man. Wanna sleep." 

Ian rose from the bed and bit his lower lip subconsciously, clearly thinking of an excuse. But when it seemed as if he couldn't find one, he just shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Too bad. I'm gonna go for a walk, need some air. Get some rest, okay? I'll be back in an hour, maybe." He placed a swift kiss on Mickey's cheek, and walked out of the room, leaving Mickey alone, clutching a pair of Ian's sweats he was planning on wearing. 

Instead, he shouted, enough for Ian to hear, "Wait up!"

Fumbling with jeans and a shirt, he grabbed a denim jacket, considering it was night-time and pretty chilly out, and followed Ian down the stairs.

His husband gave him a knowing smile and they walked out of the house and into the empty street. The Milkoviches were nowhere in sight and Mickey's shoulders sagged in relief, knowing he wouldn't have to deal with that shit tonight.

They walked in silence for a while, letting the silence consume them, their shoulders sometimes bumping against each other as they walked. Mickey turned to observe the man next to him, and he couldn't help but stare at the perfection that was Ian Gallagher as the shitty street-laps cast a glow over him. 

He was absolutely perfect. In fact, too fucking perfect with this coy scheme to get Mickey to talk willingly. Like that shit was gonna work.

He felt an overwhelming urge to just shout at Ian and tell him that he didn't need to take Mickey out here, that he was perfectly fucking okay, and to just fuck off with the sappy girly teenage bullshit.

But then Ian took his husband's hand into his, and all those thoughts were instantly replaced with sheer love. 

It was a while before Ian finally spoke. They were already sort-of venturing into the gentrified parts of the neighborhood -- the ones with the cafes and yoga studios. Their hands were still clasped together like glue. "You feel any better?"

If Ian had asked that question any time during this past week, Mickey would've immediately lashed out, but for some reason, for the first time in a while. he felt calm. "Yeah."

Ian gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Good."

"Still don't feel like talking about it, tho." He felt the need to add.

"We don't have to talk about it. We don't have to talk about anything at all." 

Mickey nodded. "Okay."

"Okay."

And they didn't. They just kept walking, enjoying the serendipity of the night, simply being next to one another, just like they were always meant to be. 

Mickey felt a heat spread through him, and he pulled both of them to a stop, making Ian look down at his now-red face. 

"What's up?" 

Mickey answered by placing his hands gently on Ian's face and pulling him closer. Their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss. Ian let his hands rest on Mickey's sides, kissing him slightly deeper. Tingles erupted through every single part of Mickey's body. When they parted for air, he whispered, "Fuck, I love you."

"I love you too." The reply was instant.

Mickey let out a laugh, his entire mood lifting. "Who would've thought we'd be here, taking a fuckin' stroll through the Southside, holdin' hands like love-sick teenagers."

Ian laughed with him, "I always knew. You and me, we were always gonna end up right here, right now. No matter what happened."

Mickey ran his thumb gently over Ian's face, leaning in for another kiss.

And then they heard Ian's name being shouted from across the street. 

"Ian!"

The couple stooped short, looking for the source of the high-pitched voice. And, she wasn't hard to miss, just like the other two people behind her weren't. She was approaching them slowly, a wide smile on her face, and the others were tagging along behind her.

"Shit," Ian whispered to Mickey. "Gay Jesus groupies. That's Kimberly." 

Mickey nodded, "Uh-uh." He felt somewhat amused by how uncomfortable Ian was getting, just enough for a smile to slip on his face, albeit the interruption.

But Mickey's smile dropped as he noticed how Ian's face suddenly paled and how his eyes widened as the others, beside Kimberly, came into view.

"Ian! How are you, good to see you!" Kimberly wrapped her arms around Ian, and Mickey was forced to take a step back as she invaded their personal space. A scowl settled onto his face. 

"Hi. Good to see you too." Ian gave a tight-lipped smile. "Antonio, Lara." He smiled at the man and woman behind Kimberly and then his gaze focused on a man, about Mickey's height, that had curly hair and a weird-ass chin beard. "Trevor." He finally nodded.

And then, for Mickey, it all clicked into place.

Motherfucking ex-fucking-boyfriend Trevor. 

Mickey felt his fists clench as he assessed the dude. Ian was with him? This was the guy Ian had come back to after leaving Mickey at the border? Jealousy surged through every fiber of his body.

Kimberly spoke up again, still very-fucking-cheery. "We had no idea you were out!"

Ian's brow visibly creased. "You didn't?"

"No! I mean, Geneva mentioned you a couple of times but I can't remember her saying you were out of that God-forsaken place!"

Ian didn't even blink. "It's weird. She and some of the others were helping me out at my wedding, a little over a year ago. I've been out for almost two."

"Wedding?" Mickey heard Trevor ask, surprised. 

Mickey couldn't deny himself the pleasure of answering how, yeah, Ian did get married. To him. 

But Ian beat him to it. "Oh, yeah, sorry." He pulled Mickey to his side. "Meet my husband, Mickey."

Mickey half-assedly raised his hand as if to say "hi", but his chest warmed at the sincere happiness in Ian's voice. 

"Mickey, huh?" Trevor asked slowly. 

Ian just nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. Mickey."

Soon, the others were congratulating them, wishing them all the best of luck. Trevor stayed silent. It wasn't long before they all said goodbye, with a swift "Take care." from Ian. 

They moved in silence again, just that this time, it was anything but empty.

Mickey couldn't stop replaying it in his head. 

"Mickey, huh?"

"Yeah. Mickey."

Mickey knew that was Ian's way of saying goodbye to this chapter of his life. To saying goodbye to Trevor, and all of the ex-boyfriends he had. It was Ian Gallagher's way of saying, "And after everything, I chose him. I chose Mickey."

He grabbed his husband's hand again, and they walked back home in silence, letting their connected skin speak for itself.


End file.
